


A Message of Fire and Death

by TheLoneSurvivor



Series: Heroes, Legends, and Saviors [6]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: An axe, Diplomacy, Gen, Hatred, Looming Battle, Mentioned Murder, Mentioned Racism, One-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 10:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3565853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLoneSurvivor/pseuds/TheLoneSurvivor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The battle for Whiterun looms just on the horizon. But before the call is made, an axe must be sent to the Jarl of the hold. While the messenger arrives hoping for the Jarl to accept the offer, and for everyone to ignore him as he makes his way through the city, he unfortunately gets neither.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Message of Fire and Death

**Author's Note:**

> I tried my best on imagining how people in that city would react to a man dressed in Stormcloak attire would be treated. They wouldn't treat them like the Dragonborn was in the game, that's for sure.  
> Name was just changed! Used to be 'A Message to Whiterun' I changed it in realization that it was probably not the best name, so we'll try this one.

It was a nice, bright day, but had dark intentions. The guards looked at me with glares like daggers and hands on their weapons, watching my every movement. It was a good thing I was a messenger, if not my head would've been lobbed off before I even reached the gate. The wind felt crisp and cool on my skin that day, it was refreshing to say the least. The sun shone high in the sky and only a few clouds rolled by. It would've been the perfect day if not for what I was there for. I knew what was in store for me, for the people glaring at me and the city I was striding through. Getting here was the most difficult thing so far, but wasn't nearly as hard as what I was going to do. I had been running for a good few days, almost non-stop. I think it was why I was given the job.

The streets were filled with chatter and vendors desperately trying to sell their goods. A shame it was most likely going to end in fire. I could feel everyone's eyes on me as I walked by, clad in my Stormcloak armour. Conversations ceased and gazes all turned to me. I didn't look back, I just kept walking through the crowd and up to the giant tree in the centre of the city.

It was bright green and had new blossoms on it. It was beautiful, one of the best sights this city had to offer. The steps up to it were a bit tiring but weren't very long. No, that was the other set of steps on the other side of the lumbering tree. I heard a man's shouting over to my right. A middle-aged man in bright priest robes stood with his hands out, it still confuses me as to why. But he was babbling on about something I didn't care about; until I saw what he was standing in front of. A large statue of Talos was there, a sight that returned my strength. It was probably larger than the one in the temple in Windhelm.

The man's shouting stopped to stare at me too. I had a few guards following me to make sure I wasn't going to get into any trouble. I knew they had been too, ever since I walked into the city. A man dressed in Imperial armour spat at my feet, but I kept walking. But I did make sure to flip him as I made my way past. If I had looked back I would've seen a glare with “You're dead,” all over it I'm sure. The whole city went silent as I walked past, they seemed to know what was going on. It seemed like they were all looking for any openings so they could stab me, no-one ever did.

The steps up to the massive keep was very tiring to say the least, I don't know how those guards managed it. The doors seemed to weigh as much as me, it took a good few moments to open. The only thing I heard was the sounds of sweeping and the giant fire crackling away in the centre of the keep. It seems they were informed of my arrival. I continued to walk, despite the glares the guards and a few others were giving me. They couldn't do anything to me, if I did not return in a week Ulfric would march on the city. So if I died, then at least the person who did it would be lying in a pool of their own blood. I must've smiled at the thought.

I wished Ralof was with me for that, but he decided to stay outside the gates. He knew something like this was going to happen, guess he didn't want to brave it. Him and I had become fast friends after we saw each other walking off to the same ruin in the same, blue cloth-wrapped chainmail armour. We shared out younger lives to one another and then our reasons for join the Stormcloaks. Then he told me one story I could only imagine; and only wanted to! He told me of how Ulfric was captured, I remember everyone going crazy about that, including myself. And then of how a dragon had came down on the city and burned it to the ground and how he had managed to escape with a man named Thorlof.

The fire was scorching as I walked by, the closest person to it was a Dunmer. _I bet_ she _is going to fight, unlike the layabouts in Windhelm,_ I had thought at the time. I don't think that anymore though. I had been harsh on the Dunmer, calling them names behind their back, but never lashed out at them like Rolff had. He had gone and infuriated one of them so much that one night they had banded together and stabbed the man into something barely recognizable as human. I had been there for that event. I respected that they stood up for one another and in front of prejudice people that call Windhelm home.

That was why they would never join the Stormcloaks. If they weren't ever treated like Nords, or people of Skyrim, why would they even bother risking their lives for it? It was something I explained to Ulfric, he said he might consider changing his attitude towards them, but the word _consider_ apparently meant the same thing as _no_. I held it against him, hell I still do. But that is one of the few things I dislike about the man, but I follow him regardless. Always will too, I see too much good in him to leave. Many others say that too.

The fire nearly seemed to melt me before I even got to deliver my message. The Dunmer asked for an explanation and one of the guard spoke for me, if we had been outside I was sure he would've spat at my feet too. Everyone here hated me, all because of the armour I wore. It seemed a petty thing to hate someone over, but at that time it made a lot more sense. I walked up to the throne and the man sitting in it after the snarling Dunmer took a few steps back. I heard a few curses under her breath as I passed by, no doubt directed at me, I made sure to finger her too.

The man sat patiently as I strode my way up the final steps to his throne. Eyes on me the entire time. It was almost like he was eyeing me for weaknesses too. They never would trust me until I laid down my Stormcloak armour, not that day. Not that day. After I stood there for what seemed like an eternity he spoke.

“So, what brings you to my court?” His voice was low and grim.

I slung the backpack I had on me to the ground and began to rummage through it. I found what I was looking for, a steel axe, embroidered nicely and looked to be worth as much as an ebony sword. I slowly handed it to him.

“An axe?”

I stood silent, hoping he would figure out what the gesture meant before I had to speak.

The man, Balgruuf, sighed. “Well speak up, boy.”

Calling me a boy infuriated me at the time, it still does, but I quickly settled back down before I spoke. I recited what Ulfric had said to me just after giving it to me and just before my departure. “Men who understand each other often have no need for words.”

The man's eyes narrowed on me, “I see.”

Without a word of warning he shouted, **“Proventus!”** and it hurt my ears. Within moments a man who I didn't even notice before sprung forward and strode over to the man. “Yes my jarl?”

“What do you have to say about allying with the Stormcloaks?”

“I say it is unneeded, a band of _rebels_ is not much of a threat at all.” The venom in his words could've burned a hole through ebony.

“Of course, let the _Imperial_ who cares nothing for Talos speak his mind...” I mumbled under my breath. Balgruuf ignored it but Proventus shot me a glare.

“Ulfric and I have been on somewhat good terms for years though, I don't want to just ruin everything we've built.” Balgruuf stated. _Finally, someone who actually moderately likes Ulfric in this city._ I said to myself.

“But the Stormcloaks only want our resources and men! Ulfric doesn't give a damn about your friendship!” Proventus shot back. If he and I were alone, he would be a mangled corpse by the time I left the room.

“They will use our resources, yes. But he _does_ care, otherwise he would not have sent an axe.”

Proventus seemed to be really annoyed now, “But think of the Thalmor! They will kill all of us once the war would end if the rebels won.”

“I would rather die knowing I could pray to any god I want, rather than stay living and not have the privilege to do so.” I thought it was over then, he would side with the Stormcloaks and we would avoid having a conflict, and I actually had a small smirk on my face; until I heard the next words Balgruuf spoke. “But you're right. The elves would kill us, the innocents in this city included. So here,” He tossed the axe back, but gently which surprised me. “and go back to your leader.” He nearly spat the last words, which surprised me even more. Guess he wanted to see Proventus frustrated a bit and didn't actually care for him and Ulfric's friendship.

I packed the axe back into my pack and slung it over my shoulder. I quickly put it on and started for the door. The guards continued to glare and follow me back out the city, like they were worried I was going to go on a killing spree. I walked back down the steps and had the same thing happen again, but this time more verbal. People began laughing and mocking the Stormcloaks for failing at getting the city to their side diplomatically. But they all knew in the back of their minds what that entitled and I saw the fear in everyone's eyes. It made me smile.

Most of the citizens did that, laugh and shout something bad about the Stormcloaks all while eyes full of fear of what will happen next. They knew it wasn't the last time they would see men and women in armour like mine. And they knew that fire would be rained onto the houses and streets. They knew that the battle here would be the death of many. Yet they laughed and shouted their weak insults. The same man in Imperial armour strode up to me and spat at my feet again, but I stopped and looked deep into his eyes and saw the fear he had too. He may have been taller and stronger than me, but he feared me more than ever at that moment.

I turned and walked through the crowds again. The crowd split apart as I walked past, making a pathway clear of anyone else for me. If under different circumstances it would've been a sign of respect, but this time it was no such thing. I made it to the blacksmith's shop just inside the city gates. 'Warmaiden's' I think it was called. I stopped on the bridge and looked back at the city and saw everyone still staring at me. I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted, “Better get working on some barricades!” before letting my hands fall back to my sides.

I turned and began to walk out of the city that the next time I would see would be on fire.


End file.
